Sunday, December 31, 2006

No body knows my troubles with God.

Top of the morning gents,

Spoiled son of a fuck is I.

Don't believe me? Just ask the Commander and the
Saint.

In the last 72 hours I've been on a cerebral high, or
perhaps an intellectual high. I'm still cycling and
grooving to my very own goose pimples, hard nipples
and drippy dick.

"It's been days since I found God" (K. Cobain).

Most conversations with breathing chimps are fairly
mundane, repetitive and fucking arse boring, but to
spend half a goddamned day with the Saint discussing
local history, case work and philosophical speculation
and meandering, is well absolutely fucking fabulous.

The frosting on the turd involves roughly 144 Ksec
debating and arguing in futility with the Commander.

Do you know anybody with an IQ exceeding 160? Don't
waste your nut sack periodicity looking in the mirror,
you'll only be half as smart as these two gents AFTER
you leak blood and shit in your brain and trousers:
sort of a choke and puke, but more akin to stroke and
poop.

Strong convictions in both employ and faith make these
two gents peaceful, powerful, positive-beautiful,
capable and lovable. Meaning: nothing like the rest of
us butt fuckers.

Comparing ourselves to the Saint and the Commander is
pretty fucking humbling. Examining ourselves, we all
look like midgets on the rag tripping on our very own
tampon strings. To challenge these two angels
religious or philosophical may likely result in our
ass cheeks on a milk carton or simply dead as a midget
playing ping pong-cuz we done fell off the table.

No comparison dickheads.

We got no morals nor principals-we're just ruthless
killers and rapists that married victims of our very
own crimes.

Faith in a higher power is a bitch, and has been since
we all were natives. At one time in archeology we were
all terrestrially imprisoned red ass macaques messing
ourselves in tribal unison in and around the Olduvai
Gorge in Africa.

Or so the Commander lectured sermonic last weekend.
Thus my story starts henceforth.

In adherence to wise principal or fable, our selfish
detours away from our own faith leads us to our
aboriginal sin: the rules apply to everybody, just not
me.

That's the first dumb ass mistake when we preach to
one another wonders esoteric, then slip our native
pride up the ass of a darker dullard.

Ya see, the notion of gray areas implies the rules
don't apply to us. Which is pretty fucking lame
considering all things great start with us. If we
waited on our fellow man to live up to a higher
standard, we'd all still be existing in a purgatorial
sewer surrounded by Godless FAS butt fuckers and child
gomers.

Way to go Karl, that metaphor sure backfired. I forget
where we live.

In other words, if we don't set by example, we retard
our very own evolutionary advancement.

Since Christ was a reptile, we scapegoat our own
failings onto dumber fuckers, or smarter in-laws, then
lynch them. "This will not do" (R. Waters).

I have faith in my own ass, but I worry about you lot.
Which is the crux of our own undoing. Any moron with a
Ph.D. can fold space, interface contextual
perspectives, or rationalize why we shant follow a few
simple rules emanating from the race memories stored
in our mitochondria DNA. Hence simple prophetic rules
interpreted by the region directly behind your snotter
that's as old as all life on this planet: the God spot
in your brain.

Put another way, at any time and space we are free to
intellectualize our own asses right back to
monkey-hood, grasping hand in hand with our red ass
macaques maternal. I ain't saying yer mum is a
gorilla, but looking at you lads, tell her that I'm
proud of you all and that you've grown up to be
handsome young men. Then shave her back and you'll
find my teeth marks on her.

Nup, ain't no bad asses 'round here.

This ancient faith in a superior being is likely the
catalyst that triggered our hair loss allowing us to
perspire instead of panting to cool our core
temperatures.

With a gob hole free of constant hyperventilation, we
freed our yap traps for more important things, like
verbally sharing our imaginations and mutually
inclusive religious thoughts. Once our speech caught
up with our minds, the evolutionary process
accelerated. At this marked point in human history we
were no longer merely smart grunting apes: we became
unshaven miserable heebs.

Wake up fucks. The shared belief in a higher
extraterrestrial alien power steered our GIANT
evolutionary strides far out stepping our gaped ass
chimp cousins with kissable hairy, gaped and poopy
orangutan butt pussy.

Now back track from this appallingly dismal state of
erectus homos, to this last week of high-minded
discourse with the Chief and the Craig. Us goat
fucking back biting monkeys have enjoyed a really
awesome run and reviewing our own archeology all I can
say is, "What a long strange trip it's been" (G.
Dead).

You ask where all this abstract bullshit comes from?

It ain't from inside me. I steal, pilfer and rob great
ideas from you bastards, then synthesize and execute
logical analysis-analog. Just another rewrite of
greater thoughts I fucking kyped from you lot.

"I think, therefore I am."

Nup, out here on the rez, I stink, therefore I am. The
reason I can learn so fast and formulate new ideas is
cuz I'm an Alaskan village idiot.

I have zero imagination and despite chronic drug use
along with chronic abuse of all those little sober
people, I have one fucking impeccable memory.

Karluk.

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